


When Words Fail

by Kaerith



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Sugar Daddy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:26:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29051355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaerith/pseuds/Kaerith
Summary: Joe wants to greedily lay claim to everything Nicky surrounds himself with; leave some evidence of how entwinedheis in Nicky’s life, the way Joe feels with everything material his lover provides him.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 8
Kudos: 55
Collections: All and More (18+) Kaysanova Gift Bag 2020





	When Words Fail

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AvengersNewB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvengersNewB/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [AvengersNewB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvengersNewB/pseuds/AvengersNewB) in the [All_and_More_Gift_Bag_2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/All_and_More_Gift_Bag_2020) collection. 



> Prompt from Ven: “Student Joe and rich sugar daddy Nicky, so much love and sex going on.” 
> 
> Note to Ven: Beacuse of that prompt _this_ happened in my brain, so I’m giving it to you. Hope it satisfies the craving you were having! ❤️ (I would have focused more on the “much sex” part, but Joe kept insisting on focusing on the “love” part and I didn’t want it to get too long, lol.)

He can hear Nicky come home. Drop his keys, set down his briefcase, and take off his shoes. Joe’s lips curl in anticipation as he taps his paintbrush against the rim of the cup before dipping it into the swirl of blue and white oil paint on his palette. He bops his head as if there is music still playing through his earbuds, but tracks Nicky’s approach via sound as he washes his hands and takes a bottle from the fridge and opens it. He tries to school his face to hide the glee from his expression as he senses Nicky pause in the doorway to his studio but it doesn’t matter; from this angle, Nicky can’t see his face. Just his naked back and the tiny briefs he stripped down to. 

Nicky touches him first on his back and slides his hand over Joe’s shoulder and down his pectoral as he crowds up against him and plucks out one earbud. “Hey, baby,” Nicky says almost breathlessly. 

“Hi Daddy,” Joe teases back. He drops his brush into the water/solvent mix and arches back against his lover’s body. 

Nicky nuzzles at his neck and gives a few sucking kisses. “Such a nice sight to come home to.” 

“Careful of the paint,” Joe says. “It’s oil. I don’t want you to ruin another suit. You know how much I like the way you look in them.” 

“Fuck the suit,” Nicky says quietly. “If you were so worried about my clothes you wouldn’t have set yourself up like this.” 

“Like what?” Joe teases. “I have to finish this assignment for class. Plus, I’m only able to do what I have the opportunity to do as an art student thanks to you. Have I thanked you again for that, again, today?” 

Nicky’s fingers settle on Joe’s hips, the tips of them sliding under the waistband of his underwear. “Just because I’m taking care of the financial things for us does not mean that you need to express your gratitude with sexual favors,” he says. “You’re my boyfriend, not my sex slave or harem boy.” 

Joe isn’t sure the damp rag removes all of the paint from his hands, but wants to touch Nicky back so much. He drops the cloth and laces his fingers through Nicky’s. “If I was your harem boy you would need more than just me.” 

Nicky huffs a chuckle directly into his ear before he gives it a nip. “I wouldn’t be able to handle anyone else, _tesoro._ You keep me more than satisfied.” 

He knows that the watch that slides a centimeter or two down Nicky’s wrist has a name and a price tag that should mean something to him, but Joe has never cared. He just wants to press his lips against the backs of Nicky’s fingers as he presses his ass back into his boyfriend’s groin. Joe is pleased to feel his interest, and his own “interest” has been making itself known since he first heard the front door. After kissing Nicky’s hands, he leads them down to where his erection is tenting his shorts. “I’ve been impatient today, waiting for you to get home.” 

That makes Nicky hook his chin over Joe’s shoulder and thrust against him with an indrawn breath. “You didn’t have to wait,” he murmurs. 

Joe wants to roll his eyes but he tries to be mature around Nicky; the man is already a bit shy because of the age gap. The years between their ages doesn’t mean a thing to Joe- he isn’t strictly into older men or anything, and Nicky doesn’t even _look_ more than a few years older than him. The age thing, the money thing- all of that is meaningless without his lover’s kindness, respect, and generosity. But sometimes Nicky gets anxious about it. 

“What use is having a hot boyfriend if I just sit around fapping all day so that I don’t need him to take me apart once he comes home?” 

“I’m the one with the hot boyfriend,” Nicky insists, before his resolve entirely cracks. He’s turning Joe around, getting his mouth on his, kissing him insistently and wetly as his hands run over Joe’s body with unleashed greed. 

All Joe can do is circle his arms over Nicky’s neck and try to show his own enthusiasm by kissing him back and grinding up against him. When Nicky pulls his mouth away to catch his breath, Joe tugs him toward the door. “Shower. C’mon.” 

“Bed,” Nicky argues, tugging him by his hand. 

“I’ve got paint-“ 

His protests are ignored by Nicky pushing him onto the bed. He stays on his feet and strips off his jacket. “Already said. I don’t give a fuck about the suit.” He grins almost ferally, yanking impatiently at his tie. “I give a fuck about _you._ You wanna get yourself ready, or you want me to do it?” 

“I haven’t washed my hands, Nic!” Joe’s laugh is half humor and half incredulity at Nicky’s impatience. He holds his wrists up above his head. “The solvent- I shouldn’t even touch your cock!” 

His lover only undoes a few shirt buttons before he pulls it up over his head. “Gotta keep them there, then, baby. Let me do all the touching.” His light-colored eyes are dark with pupil and his gaze is a familiar and heavy weight on Joe’s body. It turns Joe’s arousal up even higher, and he writhes and rubs his thighs together. 

“Hurry, then!” Joe tosses his head back and focuses on the ceiling, feeling like watching Nicky for any longer would only increase the torture. Finally, Nicky straddles him on the bed and pulls off his briefs. Joe spreads his legs and reaches out to touch that pale skin. 

“Nah,” Nicky chides, pushing his wrist away. “The solvent, remember?” His smile is teasing. Joe whines and tries to arch up to feel more of Nicky. “It was your plan to make me crazy for you the moment I got home, wasn’t it? Can’t complain about the results now.” 

Joe pouts. “Why do you think that?” 

Nicky rubs his cheek inside of Joe’s thigh like a cat before kissing it, maintaining eye contact while he pumps some lube onto his fingers. “You were painting _naked, cuore mio._ ” 

“Only practical,” Joe purrs, lifting his eyebrows innocently. 

“And not even listening to anything. You wanted me to think you hadn’t even noticed me come in.” Nicky starts stroking Joe’s hip with one hand just before his other reaches down to touch his opening. “Always the artist, Yusuf,” he says fondly, “Arranging a tableau of your beautiful figure in the golden light from the western window.” 

Joe’s heart throbs in his chest and tears spring to his eyes. “You keep saying you do not understand art and poetry, _ya amar._ I keep telling you that you do and that you _are._ ” 

“I always listen to what you say,” Nicky agrees gently. His practiced fingers are preparing Joe efficiently and thoroughly, glancing brushes to his prostate making him squirm and his breaths enter and leave his lungs in short, hitching gasps. 

“Nicky, Nic,” Joe squeezes his eyes tight, caught up in a particularly strong wave of pleasure. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, my darling. Should I put on a-“ 

“No.” Joe shakes his head. Opens his eyes to watch the blush creep across Nicky’s face as he hears: “I want to feel your come drip from me.” 

It’s so gratifying to have Nicky finally cover Joe’s body with his. Nicky puts a hand on his cheek and kisses him deeply before he asks, “Ready?” 

After Joe’s quick nod- like his lover even had to ask!- Nicky finally pushes his cock in. Joe lets a hum rumble in the back of his throat at the sensation, at how perfectly Nicky fills him up. 

“Baby,” Nicky says once, softly, with the wonder that he hasn’t lost in all the time they have been doing this. He doesn’t draw it out, attentive with kisses and tender caresses and a firm hand around Joe’s dick. Even with a condensed build-up, their extended flirting and foreplay had ramped them up to a bright and near-simultaneous climax. Joe’s legs tighten around Nicky and his hands grasp the edge of the headboard in a strong grip while his partner’s breaths pant heavily in his ear. 

“Shower,” Nicky says, giving Joe another deep, affectionate kiss before sitting up several long and easy minutes later. Joe rolls to his side and watches him remove his watch and set it on the nightstand. He thinks about how the band and clasp probably carry traces of lube and his semen on them now from Nicky’s fingers and has a sharp, satisfying rush of possessiveness run through his chest. He wants to greedily lay claim to everything Nicky surrounds himself with; leave some evidence of how entwined _he_ is in Nicky’s life, the way Joe feels with everything material his lover provides him. 

Nicky is generous to support him as he finishes school and hones his crafts which are not likely to profit Joe with monetary wealth. The financial responsibility Nicky has lifted from Joe hardly costs him anything, he always says, and earns him Joe’s priceless appreciation and also allows him to gift the world with his art. Nicky always says that he has the better end of the deal and he _believes it_ \- Joe thinks that is the result of his upbringing in a family focused solely on the physical trappings of success. Joe also knows that his love for Nicky is something foreign to the man, his openness about expressing his feelings with words and gestures still makes Nicky blush and gaze at him with awe sometimes. Selfishly, Joe hopes that won’t ever change. 

“You coming?” Nicky says, capturing his attention. His man is standing naked between the bed and the bathroom, smiling at him like Joe being lost in thought is the best thing he has seen all day. Which is objectively untrue; Joe knows that the lighting in his studio at that time had been _perfect,_ giving him a glow and chiaroscuro that had defined his best features. Joe, right now, is sprawled and messy and had been so gently and thoroughly taken apart. The sheets don’t complement his skin tone, and his ass is on a scratchy towel they use for sex because neither of them likes to sleep in the wet spot or change the sheets. 

Nonetheless, Nicky still looks at him exactly like he had in the other room: worshipful with a bit of fond indulgence that somehow only makes Joe feel appreciated and not insulted. “What?” He says to Nicky, unable to even pretend to sound annoyed rather than sleepy and adoring. 

Nicky shakes his head slightly and lifts a shoulder, one corner of his mouth lifting in self-deprecation. “You’re just so amazing. I love you so much.” 

He always does this. Looks at Joe like that and says something simple but potent that just makes Joe feel like his insides start melting into a hot, fiery mess of molten bronze to reshape him from the inside and sculpt him into a form that will be perfect on Nicky’s eyes. (...Somehow, that new sculpture always turns out to be him, exactly the way he was shaped before.) 

Joe wants to say something profound. Scrambles to recall any of the words he had written in any language from any of his poems. What always comes out is, “I know. I love you, too,” which should be disappointing but never is because of how Nicky always lights up at those simple words that do not even begin to encompass everything Joe feels for him. 

“Shower,” Nicky repeats, holding his hand toward him, beaming.


End file.
